


Open Wounds

by LadyBee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Arya deserves a hug, Daenerys died, Day 5, F/M, I won't say anything else to not spoil the experience, Jon Snow screwed up big time, Jonrya Week, Wounds, there's sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBee/pseuds/LadyBee
Summary: “Do you still love me?” He finally asked, fearing for the answer.“It wouldn’t hurt so bad if I didn’t.”
Relationships: Jon Snow & Arya Stark, Jon Snow/Arya Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 134
Collections: Jonrya Week, Jonrya Week: January 2020





	Open Wounds

Their lives had changed drastically and in many different ways during that year. Wars had been fought; winter had been defeated and against all odds, the wolves survived. The dispute in the North had been settled and things were supposed to get back to normality.

Arya was naive, or simply stupid, to think that anything would ever be as they were before. As if magically she would get back to the happy days of her childhood and have her father there to protect her from everything, even a broken heart.

With Bran crowned King in the North and Daenerys ruling what remained of Westeros, Arya had the sweet illusion that she would go back to Winterfell and live a peaceful life, surrounded by those she loved. The gods had other plans for her and at that point, Arya was no longer sure if she could endure one last blow.

Shortly after Aegon’s defeat and the coronation of Daenerys Targaryen, the Queen announced what the whole kingdom expected from a sovereign. Daenerys was with child and that was both reassuring and worrisome as the queen gained enemies and the talk of madness remained as strong as ever. With or without dragons, Daenerys was a dangerous woman cursed by all the glory and tragedy of her blood.

Bran was already in Winterfell, while Arya stood in King’s Landing to serve as her brother’s emissary. She admired Daenerys for everything she was and yet felt uneasy whenever the queen got near Jon. The Dragon Queen made no secrets of her interest in the bastard of Winterfell during the war. Jon was always discreet and seemed to avoid Daenerys advances, but there was still rumors that Arya preferred to ignore.

It had been a difficult time for them. They were both aware of their feelings; disgusted by them and yet struggling to accept that love between them was impossible. Arya thought about a hundred times to find solace in the arms of another man, in a futile attempt of forgetting Jon completely, but never had the courage. Meanwhile, Jon kept telling her that no matter what happened, he would never love a woman as he loved her.

It wasn’t enough, but it was all they could have. A love meant to be unfulfilled; forever trapped in a limbo where all those stillborn loves remained. They tried to accept it, to live with it and died a bit every day along the way. At least there was a war to fight and keep them busy, but the bitterness and the longing were never too far.

Somewhere between the Battle of Winterfell and the attack on King’s Landing, things changed in an unbelievable way. She might still pay Reed a thousand golden dragons for the answer they had searched with desperate need.

For Jon it tasted differently. Knowing his true parentage had been a mixture of desolation and relief. He never wanted what came attached with the name and blood. He refused to acknowledge the idea that he had any other father but Eddard Stark, but finally knowing his mother’s name was a long lost dream. Rhaegar became a synonym to freedom though. Freedom from all the shame and denial they had lived for months.

“Rhaegar destroyed everything I held dear and might still ruin me for good, but at least one thing he will give me. He owes me that much. I won’t live my life waiting for the day another will come to take you away.” Jon told her that night. “Bran can’t deny my request in this. Even if he does, I’m willing to disobey him as long as you agree with my plan. Tell me you will have me for your husband and I’ll wed you right now.”

Bran granted them his blessing and Jon married her in secret a week before their departure to King’s Landing. At the time he rejected Daenerys completely, without ever mentioning that the woman he loved was Arya Stark.

The Dragon Queen became bitter and spiteful of him, but Jon was still a much needed ally and commander. Arya had marched by his side all the way to King’s Landing and saw all the atrocities of a war ruled by fire.

Arya had hoped to get back to Winterfell once it was all over, but agreed to stay and help to settle a somewhat stable scenario for a new regime. She took a seat at the Small Council, along with Jon, in Bran’s name. She helped to create laws and organize defenses. She convinced Jon to tell the Queen the truth after Daenerys revealing her condition, despite all the dangers that could impose.

With an heir on the way, the Queen had little to fear from a bastard nephew. All that Arya wanted was for Jon to be recognized as Rhaegar and Lyanna’s son, legitimate or not. That triggered a bitter argument between Jon and the Queen, but Arya didn’t know the details of it. By the end of the day, Daenerys agreed with it.

Jon wedded her for a second time and made it public. He was also granted the title of Prince, standing behind Daenerys’ child in succession. It was everything Arya could ever wish for and for months she believed that no one would ever be as happy as she was at that moment.

Of course she noticed how Jon had grown quiet and got easily angered those days. She assumed it was the stress of staying at the capitol, taking care of Daenerys realm while the Queen slowly withdrew from her public duties as her pregnancy became more and more delicate and dangerous to her health. Arya never once considered that those days of happiness were just the calm before the storm.

The storm came; on a cold night the Red Keep was awakened by the first cries of the Queen and the Small Council gathered to prepare to announce the birth, among other issues that should be addressed. Jon remained impatient and anxious the whole time, to the point of making Arya wonder why he seemed so agitated.

Many hours later, the chief midwife and Maester Tarly entered the room to announce the child was born and seemed healthy, but Daenerys had lost too much blood and was weak. Before Tarly could get back to the Queen’s chamber, Daenerys died in a bed of blood, leaving behind a newborn child and a kingdom in pieces.

There was a sudden commotion and the Small Council was completely at lost with the news. They all looked at Jon with apprehension, expecting him to step up and claim the title for the sake of the kingdom, but he never did it.

“Take me to the child.” Jon said in a low and sober tone.

Arya refused to stay behind as he went to see the infant. She followed him all the way to the royal chambers without saying a word. Tarly was right behind her and urging Arya to wait until Jon had checked on the baby, but she ignored him entirely.

Daenerys’ chambers reeked of death and blood. Her body laid in bed, terribly pale, with her purple eyes still open. She looked like a rag doll and far from being the formidable Dragon Queen. In the end, Daenerys Targaryen was just a woman and she died a woman’s death. Alone, fighting a woman’s battle, in bed covered in blood.

The midwives stepped forward to handle the child to Jon. When Arya saw the baby’s face for the first time it was clear why Jon had been anxious and Tarly tried to keep her outside the room.

Daenerys had died giving birth to a child that bared nothing of the Targaryen beauty. The little girl had inherited the dark hair and fair complexion of her father; the colors of House Stark.

Arya felt her blood freezing and it was almost possible to hear the sound of her heartbreaking inside that room. Jon held the baby girl in his arms and said nothing for a while. He looked at his daughter’s face with eyes full of contained tears, but there was no joy in him, only resignation.

“I’m sorry.” He said between sobs, but Arya didn’t want to hear the sound of his voice. She didn’t want to look at his face and at the child in his arms.

Arya ran away from that room as fast as she could, with her face covered in tears. It was inevitable not to think of her mother and how she must have felt when she saw Jon for the first time. How ashamed, small, frail and lonely she might have felt. Arya could finally understand the feeling in an intimate and cruel way. Her mother barely knew her father at the time and there was no love between them yet; while Jon has always been the only man Arya ever loved and trusted without reservations.

In her desolation, Arya went to her room and started to pack her belongings in a trunk. She never stopped crying, although her true wish was to destroy or kill something. She wouldn’t stay another day in King’s Landing. She wouldn’t look at Jon’s face ever again. She would go North and implore Brandon to receive her and keep Jon away.

As she threw things inside the chest voices kept haunting her mind. Septa Mordane seemed to be standing behind her, grumpily saying that she wasn’t folding things like a proper lady. Lady Catelyn was there too, looking at her daughter with pity and resignation. _“This was how it felt for me too. You should never trust him. He was always meant to destroy our family.”_

The worst voices were those of Sansa and Jeyne, that kept calling her Arya Horse Face. _“you should marry someone as ugly and harry as you, like Hodor. Stupid thing, you really thought you would marry a prince and he would love you? Jon only loved you because nobody would want a bastard. Now that he is royalty he doesn’t need you anymore.”_

Finally she saw Daenerys. It was either the Queen’s ghost or a hallucination caused by grief, but she remained as beautiful, regal and ethereal as ever. Her silver hair falling loose over her back and breasts as her purple eyes looked at Arya with disdain. _“He should have been mine all along. Only a Targaryen can love another Targaryen and you simply don’t fit in. Poor girl...Go home and let me take care of him. I’ll make him happy and soon he will forget you.”_

Arya answered it by throwing the silver brush in her hand at the Queen, but the only thing she managed to hit was a vase. That was how Jon found her. Half mad with anger, with her hair in wild, puffy eyes and no more tears to cry.

“What are you doing?” He dared to ask as she slammed the chest closed.

“Leaving.” She answered simply. “As if you had left me any other choice.”

  


xxxxxxxxxxx

  


When Daenerys broke the news of her pregnancy a selfish and cruel part of him had wished for the child to never be born. Jon knew all along that he was the father. Never mind it had happened only once, in a night he got drunk after being particularly frustrated over Bran’s ideas of suitors for Arya’s hand.

At the time he was already aware that his feeling for Arya had become something forbidden and sick, but still...He couldn’t help it and seeing her marrying another man, without Jon being able to say a thing on the matter, was killing him. He had been avoiding Daenerys for months, but that night he was just too upset, angry and lonely to turn down her offer.

Jon regretted it as soon as he was finished. He left the Queen’s room shortly after and never spoke of that night again.

His parentage had been reveled and Bran gave Arya’s hand in marriage to him. For a while it was all well and Jon was happy as he never thought he would be. The news of a child felt like a curse, or a way of Daenerys taking her vengeance on him and the woman he chose. Jon struggled to believe it to be true, but as the Queen’s belly grew it became obvious that his days of happiness were numbered.

He never found the courage to tell Arya. He hoped the child to inherit the Targaryen looks so it could pass as the offspring of one of the Queen’s lovers.

Dae nerys didn’t survive the birth and yet her curse lingered.  As Jon held the child he saw his whole world crumbling down. There was a part of him that was joyous, or at least wanted to be so, and another that was completely lost  and angry.

Jon had done the one thing he vowed to never do. A mistake that would cost him everything and condemn an innocent child to a cruel fate. No matter what the law might say, the girl would be a bastard and Jon could n’t simply expect Arya to accept  his mistake and forgive him after submitting her to such a shame .  The child was his responsibility though, and so was his wife. No matter how, he would have to find a way to secure a future for his daughter and make amends with Arya. There was no other option for him.

A wet nurse was summoned to feed the baby while the Small Council decided about the preparations for the Queen’s funeral. Succession would be a matter for the following days. Before anything could be decided, he had to talk to Arya, beg her forgiveness and hope she would help him to figure what to do next.

Once he arrived in his room, a wave of panic took him. Arya was there, absolutely broken as she threw all of her belonging in a chest. No...That couldn’t be.

“What are you doing?” He asked her and Arya slammed the chest close before looking at him with puffy eyes.

“Leaving.” Her answer came as fast and sharp as an arrow through the heart. No. He wouldn’t have it. She was still his wife, liking it or not. She would not leave him. “As if you had left me any other choice.”

Jon closed the door behind him and gave a few steps towards her. Arya ignored him entirely. She kept walking around and picking up her belonging all over the room.

“Arya, let me explain.” He said soberly. As if there was anything to be explained. He had bedded another woman and sired a bastard. He was just like his father, no matter what he did, bound to make the same mistakes. “Please, listen to what I have to say.”

“You bedded her!” She shouted at his face furiously. “You hid the truth from me! You had a child with her and you waited until I was publicly humiliated to give me an explanation! I have nothing to hear from you!”

“Bran was considering suitors to your hand and I was mad with the idea of losing you! I got drunk and made one huge mistake, but I never loved her! It was only once...When I still believed you to be my sister.” Jon’s voice was broken and he tried to contain his own tears.

“So you bedded your aunt instead.” Arya snapped back in sheer anger. It felt like a burning slap across his face.

“What would you have me do if you had married another?” Jon asked.

“I didn’t marry another, did I?” Arya turned to face him. Her voice was suddenly calm; dangerously so. “I married you. You having an affair with another women under this circumstances is something I can understand and even forgive.What truly hurts is that you never bothered to tell me about it, or mention that she was about to give birth to your child. Now your daughter is born and she is healthy and motherless as you once were. She looks exactly like you and I’m suddenly the woman you betrayed.”

“It was only once, before we were married...” He repeated. “I hoped the child wasn’t mine. I was afraid of your reaction; afraid you might leave me and I was right to feel so. I hate myself for it. I hate myself for hurting you and for condemning that poor girl to the life of a bastard.”

Arya looked down to her feat. She was crying once more as her body shook lightly. His fearsome and valiant wife shrank in front of him. Arya suddenly looked small, fail and completely lost. For a moment it was all too clear for him. He had hit Arya’s sorest spot. She had always felt unfitting, inadequate and unworthy of happiness. Wasn’t it exactly why they have always been close? His weakness had just reinforced her fears and made her sure of her insufficiency.

Jon gave a step forward and Arya shrank even more.

“I’m leaving.” She insisted between sobs. “I won’t stay here anymore and you won’t have the child treated as a bastard. You should claim her as yours. It’s the least you can do.”

“You can’t leave me.” Jon replied sharply as his arms involved her. “Forgive me. Please, forgive me.”

“Maybe I will, but not now.” Her voice was a whisper, full of bitterness and sadness. “Your daughter just lost her mother. The least you should do is to be with her and leave me alone.”

Jon kissed the top of her head and let her go. He could give Arya time and space to digest everything, but eventually they would have to come to terms and find a way to live with that new reality.

“I’ll go tend to my duties, but I’m not leaving you. Not now nor ever.” Jon insisted in a sober tone. “Whatever you might think of me right now, never doubt that you are the one that I love. You have always been the only one.”

Against his will and better judgment, Jon left Arya alone in their room. He demanded two guards from the King’s Guard to stay at the door and a maid should check on her every now and then.

War was a terrible thing, but he had been trained for it. It was familiar and some times he even missed the agitation of it. What he was living was new and far worst than the possibility of being killed in battle. The woman he loved hated him and she was absolutely right to do so.

The Small Council decided to ignore the little princess’ preference to the throne, naming Jon as King instead. Daenerys would be given to the flames, according to the Targaryen tradition. There was a debate in which concerned the girl and her legitimacy, but Jon did the only honorable thing he could do. He claimed her and included the child in the succession. His daughter was named Rhaella, after the grandmother he never knew. Once everything was discussed and settled, Jon went to the nursery to see the girl.

Rhaella was a healthy child and the name didn’t suit her at all. Jon took her from the cradle and held her in his arms for a while. The girl was northerner through and through, just like he was; more Stark than any of Lady Catelyn’s boys. That was a bitter thought and it made him revive all the painful moments of his childhood.

Jon had fond memories of his brothers and father. No matter the name he was given, Ned would always be the only father he ever knew. It was Lady Catelyn who always keep Jon at a safe distance, making sure that never once he would feel welcome in that family. Jon lost count of how many times she had made him cry and feel completely isolated and unworthy of love.

That was no life for a child and yet he was imposing the same fate to that innocent girl. If Arya ever chose to forgive him, Jon couldn’t expect his wife to accept another woman’s child under their roof, threatening any children they might have. Yet, he didn’t want his daughter to think that he did not care for her. She was his own flesh and blood after all.

He sat with Rhaella on a rocking chair by the fire and cried quietly over all the mistakes he made and the things he didn’t want his daughter to suffer. Would he ever find a way to be a good father to her? Would Rhaella ever forgive him for being selfish and reckless?

Those questions kept haunting him for days, consuming his sanity and feeding his fears. Arya remained locked inside their room. She refused to see him or talk to him at all and he couldn’t even blame her for this. Jon wondered what he might have done if Arya had been the once to give birth to another man’s child. He  dreaded the answers he might find for such a question. The darkness in him twisted and turned at the bare thought of it.  Jon would do what he had been trained to do. He would kill this hypothetical rival and feel entitle to do so. Why should Arya feel any different?

I nstead of sleeping in a room of his own, Jon chose to sleep in the nursery so he could spend some time with the child. Most of the time he had no idea of what to do but call the wet nurse. Within a couple of days he was able to  tell when Rhaella was hungry, dirty, sleepy or with cramps and would be able to change a dipper.

He tried to imagine Ned Stark doing the same and the idea was laughable. Despite of what people might thing of his behavior, with Arya giving him a cold treatment, Rhaella was the only thing that gave him some solace and comfort.

A month had passed when Arya came out of the room. Jon was startled by her presence once he woke up to find his wife standing by the crib, looking down at his daughter with vague eyes and a distant expression.

“What are you doing here?” He asked it stupidly. Arya didn’t need to think that he distrusted her near the child, nor that her presence was not welcome. That question was just to inadequate given the circumstances. “I thought...I thought you still didn’t want me near.”

Arya didn’t bother to look at him. She reclined her body to take Rhaella from the crib, making Jon uneasy for a moment.

“It still hurts to think that you hid it from me.” Arya replied in a trembling voice. “This is something I may never forgive or forget.”

“I told you my reasons, and given your reaction I have no reason to believe that you would have reacted any better if I had told you.” Jon said it like a confession. “I was weak and fearful. If you have to punish someone, punish me. The child is not to be blamed.”

“I never said she was. She is innocent in all this. This is a problem that concerns both of us and no one else.” Arya replied as she looked at him with Rhaella in her arms. “I know you fear for her. You fear that she will have the same life you had.”

“I would never wish such a life for a child. The life of a bastard is lonely and cold most of the time.” He pointed and Arya nod in agreement.

“My mother was never fair with you but I understand what she felt. Gods!...I feel just the same, but you are the one to blame, not the girl.” Arya’s voice was serene, but not without reproach.

“Lady Stark was fearful for her own children, I suppose.” Jon rose from the bed and walked towards her carefully. There was a question hanging in the air, intoxicating them. Jon understood Lady Catelyn’s reasons, although it made it no less difficult to think of the treatment she always gave him. If was only normal for Arya to have the same fears. “Do you want me to cut her from succession?”

“I want her to stand in even conditions with any children we might have.” Arya replied sharply instead. “I do not wish for her to be treated any differently. I will ask just one thing from you. Let her grow believing that she is ours. I am the only mother she will ever know anyway and I don’t want her to feel different or excluded. You may tell her the truth when she is old enough to understand. Until there, the name Daenerys will never be mentioned between us ever again.”

A  wave of relief took him and Jon felt a tremendous weight being removed from his shoulders. He couldn’t afford to express it though. Everything about that matter was just too delicate and painful for Arya to take. He did not want her to feel unloved or disrespected. The only thing he wanted was for her to have him back.

“It will be done.” He replied soberly. “Have you forgiven me?”

“For having a child with another woman? Yes. I don’t think I have the right to be outraged by something that happened before it was even possible for us to marry. I still have to forgive you for hiding it from me and for submitting me to the public scorn.” She said carefully. “I don’t want to feel like this again. I don’t...I don’t want to feel that you don’t love me anymore, or that I’m not enough for you.”

“You are and will always be the one I love. I don’t want you to ever doubt it.” Jon reassured her and, although his betrayal would remain a ghost standing between them, he was grateful and happy for that second chance.

“I’ve always believed in whatever you said but now...I don’t think I can.” Arya replied bitterly as she put the child back in the crib. “I can’t leave you according to the law. Bran wouldn’t have me back home and risk another conflict anyway. I’m too tired to keep running and hiding. Being with child would only make it even more complicated.”

For a moment he was speechless and unsure if he had understood correctly. Jon had dreamed of that day so many times, but not like that. Not with Arya biting her bottom lip and trying hard not to cry in front of him. He didn’t know what to say.

“This should be a cause for celebration. I am...I am happy with the news. Delighted, really.” His voice was contained and calculated. Arya kept looking to Rhaella sleeping as she voided to look at him. “I wish it had happened under different circumstances so we could both be happy with the news.”

“Just shut up.” Arya’s voice came out sharp and cold. “I’m staying because I have no choice. I’m staying because I don’t want innocents to suffer. Do not presume that I’ll have you back in my bed or speak to you unless it’s absolutely necessary. This is truce and diplomacy, not forgiveness.”

x xxxxxxxxxxxx

  


Arya still had Eddard at her breast when the coronation took place. A year had passed since Daenerys’ death and Rhaella’s adoption by the new queen.

Rhaella was a shy and loving child; always following Arya all around with her short and clumsy steps. Her first word had been “mama”, to Jon’s utter discontentment.  Arya loved that little girl that in so many ways looked like her true born daughter. At least that Jon would never be able to complain of. Arya had kept her promise to be the only mother the girl would ever know and make no distinctions between Rhaella and a child of her own body.

Jon was a carrying father; more involved and interested in the details of his daughter’s life than any other man Arya knew. Rhaella and Eddard were the only topics Arya bothered to discuss with him during that year and for most of it Jon accepted his punishment without complaining.

Eddard’s birth was a happier occasion then Rhaella’s. Jon refused to leave the bedchamber until he was sure both mother and child were fine. Arya was thankful for having him near, despite the bitterness. The birth of a male heir gave the realm a sense of stability, but never made those judgmental eyes look the other way whenever Arya entered the room.

She was still the betrayed woman, the victim, the quiet and forgiving wife, the one people felt sorry for. Surprisingly she was also named  by commoners “ Little Mother ” for adopting Rhaella and loving the girl as a mother would.  Women would ask her to bless their children and take them in her arms for good fortune.  Jon, on the other hand, was often the object of nasty gossip and the frowns of most women that crossed his path. He was the cruel and unfaithful husband that broke the heart of the most loving and gentle woman.

A part of her was delighted to know that she wouldn’t suffer the shame alone. She was loved and adore by people that would never know her bloody past or how cruelly she was willing to treat Jon for his mistake. Arya was far from being a saint, but it felt good to know that Jon’s honor would be forever tainted as punishment.

Arya missed him though. Even if his betrayal still hurt and she had Rhaella to remind her of it every day, Arya missed her best friend and lover.  She missed a time of innocence and mutual trust; with no Iron Throne or crown dictating every step they gave. Sometimes Arya considered to let go of her anger and deception just so she could have Jon back in her bed and his company. Her pride and stubbornness would never allow it, or so she thought.

The Queen was awakened in the middle of the night by one of the nurses. Ned was ill but the woman didn’t give Arya any details.

She jump out of bed and ran to the nursery. Arya hoped it wasn’t anything serious, but she found her baby boy barely breathing and with his skin burning in fever. Ned was crying out of discomfort and it made his breathing eve n worst.

Arya took her son into her arms and tried to calm him down while she waited for Maester Tarly to arrive. Ned’s labored breathing was the most dreadful sound to her ears, feeding her with fear and anxiety for not being able to help. Sam arrived a couple of minutes later, with Jon following him with fearsome eyes.

“What happened?” Jon asked abruptly. “What does he have?”

“He can’t breath right. He is burning in fever.” Arya answered desperately. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Would you let me exam the Prince, Your Grace?” Sam asked politely before Arya could handle him Ned.

Arya felt Jon’s hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as they both looked at their son being examined by the Maester. They were both in panic with that. The worst thing she had experienced with Rhaella had been cramps.  Maybe Ned was too much of a Stark and more susceptible to diseases, since Targaryens never got sick.

Ned kept coughing horribly and his labored breathing was maddening. Arya tried hard to stay calm so Ned wouldn’t be even more distressed, but eventually her anxiety got the best of her. She held to his blanket as she cried out of fear.

“What does he have?” She asked Sam in a desolated voice.

“His lungs do not sound good. It’s not rare for infants to have this, but we must lower the fever. This is a priority.” Sam said as he gave Ned back to her arms. “I’ll ask for bandages and cold water. He must drink boiled water; as much as possible. Other than this, I can only give him a bit of sweetsleep to calm him down.”

“No sweetsleep.” Jon declared harshly. “It’s too dangerous and he is ill enough as it is. I don’t care what you must do, Sam. I want my boy healthy.” She had rarely heard Jon speaking in such manner. He was driven by a ferocious sort of anger born from helplessness.

“I’ll bring boiling water and herbs. The vapor might help. Let him breath the vapor as much as he can.” Sam instructed.

“Tell someone to bring a bathtub. I’ll bath him in cool water first.” Arya replied. She felt dizzy and lost, but she would still fight tooth and nail for her boy’s life. “Mother used to do it with us whenever we had a fever.”

Sam nod in agreement before leaving the room to get everything he needed to treat Ned. Arya sat with him and did the only thing her instincts told her too. She tried to give him the breast, hoping it would sooth Ned a bit give him strength, but every time he tried his cough would get worst.  Tears of despair kept running down her face as Ned struggled to breath and cried.

“Let me hold him for a while.” Arya heard Jon’s voice. For a second she thought he had gone after Sam to make a thousand questions.

“You shouldn’t be here. You might get sick too.” Arya replied callously.

“No, I won’t.” Jon insisted with his voice perfectly cool and controlled. “Please, Arya. Let me hold him a bit.”

Arya agreed with his request and let him take Ned into his arms. Jon put Ned’s little head resting against his shoulder and walked around the room rocking the baby lightly and patting his back. That seemed to work a bit; at least Ned stopped crying.

“I’ll ask for some tea. You should have a bit and try to stay calm.” Jon told her in a gentle and annoying voice.

“I’m perfectly fine as I am.” Arya snapped back.

“He gets anxious when he feels you are distressed.” Jon insisted. “I’m not trying to tell you how to be a mother. I’m just trying to help and we will need to be strong for him.”

“Do whatever you want.” Arya replied bitterly as she sat by the window. “Maybe you should check Rhaella and see if she is fine.”

“I already had a nurse sent to her room. I told her to inform me if there was anything wrong.” Jon said. “You should rest a bit. I’ll take care of him. It will be a long night and it will be easier if we took turns.”

“How could I think about sleeping? I need to do something, anything, or I’ll go mad.” Arya’s voice was taken by anger and frustration. “Why don’t you go to sleep instead?”

“I’m not leaving either of you. Ned is my son too and I won’t let you deal with this alone.” Jon never sounded so resolute before. “I know I hurt you and you have every right to not wanting me near, but there was a time in which you trusted me. I’m asking you to do it again, at least for now. I’m not your enemy in this.”

Arya finally accepted Jon’s presence in the room. Ned seemed calmer with his father whispering sweet words of encouragement. Jon only gave Ned back to her arms once everything was ready for Arya to bath the child.

Ned didn’t like the idea and started crying all over again. Arya remembered her mother doing exactly the same to her and despite the fact that Arya hated those baths, more often than not, they helped to break the fever.  Making Ned breathe in the vapor Sam suggested helped with the cough and the labored breath. It was enough for Ned to relax and Jon put the boy to sleep after a while.

W ith Ned back in the crib, Jon sat by her side in silence for a long while. Arya noticed his hands were shaking and it only took a moment of quietness for Jon to break down in tears. A sudden feeling of empathy took over her. In the end, they felt exactly the same. The y were just parents fearing for their child’s life.

Arya held his hand i n silence. Jon hugged her in return and they both accept the gesture and seized the moment to share the fear and the comfort of it. For the first time in a long while Arya felt grateful for having him near and the love she once bared for him seemed to wake up from a long slumber.

“I’m...I’m sorry.” Jon said as he let go of her. He was still completely broken, but had calmed down enough to stop crying. “I...I’m not strong enough as it seems.”

“Neither of us is. We are good at wars, peace and impotence are completely strange to us.” Arya whispered exhausted. “Thank you for staying.”

“You might not believe it but you and the children are everything to me.” Jon replied softly. “I wish...I wish I had done everything differently.”

“Do not dare to continue.” Arya stopped him before Jon could say anything that might remind her of her anger. “I don’t want to think about it. For once, I just want you to be here. I just want you to stay and make me few safe and tell me everything will be fine.”

“I am here and everything will be fine.” He repeated her words and held her in his arms gently. “We will be fine.”

  


xxxx xxx

  


Those had been the most frightening days of his life. Jon had put all of his duties aside so he could be with Ned day and night. The fear of losing their child had been strong enough to even make Arya lower her defenses.

In another occasion, Jon would have been eager to seize the opportunity to get her back, but with all the anxiety and hopelessness they felt, it was almost impossible to think about anything that wasn’t Ned. The fever was gone during the second day and only when Sam reassured them that the worst had passed, Jon allowed himself to feel relieved.

It was still anguishing to hear Ned’s labored breathing but even that got better with the vapors and herbs Sam had insisted upon. His son slept for most of the day once it got easier to breath. The little thing was exhausted of fighting for his life and deserved to recover his energy.

Arya still wanted to stay with their son day and night. It was only fair and expected that she would feel this way, but she needed to rest as well.

“Sam said he will be fine.” Jon told her in a gentle and persuasive tone, although it would never dissuade her from her purpose, if Arya had already made up her mind. “You should get some rest and eat something.”

Surprisingly, Arya didn’t fight him. She checked on Ned’s temperature one more time and  before nodding in agreement.

“You are probably right. A bath would do me good as well.” Arya added and her exhaustion became too evident for her to deny.

“I’ll tell your maid to prepare you one. Maybe a broth and some bread for a meal...What do you think?” He suggested amiably.

“Good...Sounds good.” Arya replied absently. “I should go to Rhaella too. She must be worried.”

“You can go to her once you are rested. Right now you should make sure to not get sick as well.” Jon insisted before giving her forehead a kiss. “I’ll check on her while you take a bath.”

A rya agreed and left the room while Jon went to Rhaella’s room to check on her. It was a bittersweet moment, but it still felt like a victory. At least they were talking to each other again and relying on each other for help and reassurance.

Jon wasn’t naive to think that Arya had forgiven him, nor expected her to be a loving wife all of a sudden. The gods knew how much she had endured because of his cowardice and Jon had to accept that he had only himself to blame for that. It hadn’t been easy though. They had spent nearly two years barely talking to each other and sleeping in separate bedchambers. He didn’t complain most of the time, but every now and then he would stay at her door, almost begging for her to let him in.

That was the price to pay for his wrong doings and also to make sure Rhaella would have a mother in Arya. At least his daughter would be accepted and loved in a way Jon never w as . To that he would be eternally grateful to  his wife.

Once he got to Rhaella’s room, his daughter went to him as fast as her little chubby legs allowed her to. Rhaella hugged his legs as if she wanted to make sure he wouldn’t go away. Jon picked her up and kissed her cheeks, then made a signal for the nurse to leave them alone.

“I missed you too.” He told her as Rhaella threw her arms around his neck.

“Ned?” She asked the question with all the sophistication that her age allowed.

“He is better now. He is just sleeping to get strong again.” Jon explained as he carried her back to her crib.

“Mom?” Rhaella apparently had been very worried about everyone. His heart ached at the thought that his daughter might have felt neglected.

“Mom is very very tired. She will rest a bit and then she will come here.” Jon rocked her gently. “It’s time for you to sleep too. When you wake up everything will be fine.” He was trying to sooth Rhaella’s worries, but the gods knew how much he wanted to believe those words too.

Jon stayed with his daughter for a while until Rhaella steady breath indicated she was finally sleeping. He left the room and went to his own chambers, hoping to wash himself and eat something.

A bath made him feel renewed and less pessimist. His body still ached and felt tired, but the idea that Ned was going to survive was finally sinking in. Only the gods knew what would be of Jon and his marriage after that. He would be a liar if he said that he had no hopes of getting Arya back, but it was also a childish way of understanding things.

Arya’s anger had more to do with the humiliation he submitted her to, than to the treason. Rhaella would always exist to remind Arya and the kingdom of what he did.

Jon laid in his own bed for a while. Maybe a couple of minutes of rest would give him enough strength to stay with Ned for another night. Jon closed his eyes and was engulfed by his own exhaustion. He hadn’t slept so heavily in ages.

He didn’t know for how long he slept, but he woke up at the sound of his door opening and closing. Jon opened his eyes and needed a moment to understand what was going on as the petite woman walked toward the bed.

Her dark hair had grown and now almost reached her waist. Her nightgown was white and flowing with a heavy gray robe over it for the sake of her modesty. Jon struggled to believe that it was happening. Maybe it was just a dream like all those he had before. It was only when she removed the robe and laid by his side in b e d that Jon realized it was not a dream. Arya was finally back.

“What…? What happened?” Jon asked groggy and confused as Arya slid under the furs and blankets unceremoniously.

“Don’t you want me to stay?” She replied sharply but also unsure of what he might answer.

“Of course I want you here.” He replied right away as he turned his whole body to look at her. “I thought...I thought something might have happened with Ned.”

“I just saw him. He ate and his breathing isn’t as bad as it was. There’s no fever either.” Arya answered with relief in her voice. “As it seems the worst is truly over. Still...I couldn’t sleep.”

“I thought about resting for a few minutes before going back to Ned’s room, but it feels like I slept for years.” Jon replied with guilt. “I guess I was even more tired than I thought.”

“I wish I felt the same.” Arya sighed heavily. “I am tired but...I can’t. I can’t sleep after these days.”

“How can I help?” In the end that was what really mattered. Probably the only thing that might justify that marriage. Crowns, thrones, wars and laws were a part of it, but in difficult times they only had each other to rely on.

Arya touched his face gently. Her hands were still as rough as he remembered and the feeling of her skin against his own was sweet, soothing and welcome. Jon still thought he might be dreaming of her again and at any moment he could wake up.

“Just be here.” She answered in a whisper. “Hold me tight and tell me I’m not alone.”

“You are not.” He said as he brushed his nose against hers. “I’m here and everything will be fine.”

“Is it too late for us to...Fix things?” Her voice was barely audible, but Jon had waited for those words as he have waited for days of Spring.

Jon answered with a faint smile, probably the first in years, before bringing her closer so his mouth could reach hers in a long waited kiss.  Arya cling to him with urge and need. Her mouth was as avid as his and it reminded Jon of their first night together, back in the day when they just found out they were not siblings.

A rya’s hands swiftly removed his shirt and unlaced his trousers as Jon’s body topped hers.  He tried hard to not hurry and simply enjoy the moment, but after so long Jon felt like a green boy about to bed a woman for the first time.  His movements were erratic and just too anxious as he tried to get Arya’s nightgown out of the way.

She probably noticed that and helped him to calm down by removing it herself. Arya had a way of conducting intimacy that Jon found to be enticing. She touched his bare chest, making him stop and giv e her space. Slowly she inverted positions, so Jon got laid on his back as she straddled him.

Her breasts were fuller and sensitive to his touch. Jon tried to keep that in mind whenever his hands roamed all over her curves so they could get reacquainted with her body. Arya was no longer the skinny girl he remembered. Her body was more voluptuous and round in the right places thanks to motherhood.  The silvery stretch marks and the scars in her body told her history better than any book could ever hope to do.  It was the most sensuous vision he could ever have.

Arya was never afraid of seeking pleasure and she knew exactly what she liked. Her hand slid down his body and inside his trousers, so she could feel how much he needed her. A few strokes and Jon nearly embarrassed himself. It took a great deal of self-control for him to resist her sweet torture.  She guided his stiff cock into her, so slowly that it almost got him mad.

She threw her head back as she moved her hips. Her hair partially covering her breasts as she rode him. It still felt oddly impersonal though. Jon wanted to hold her tight and feel her heart beating close to his as he kissed her mouth.

He managed to sit, with Arya still straddling him. He held her waist and kissed her fervently until Arya answer his need for proximity with equal disposition. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back with hunger. Her hips moved too slowly for his taste, but gave Jon the chance to savor the moment. He kissed her neck and played with her earlobe, making her close her eyes and  moan softly.

After a while her legs got tired and once more they exchanged positions. Arya had her legs wrapped around his hips as Jon pumped into her, increasing the pace every time her breathless voice said “faster” or “harder”. He barely registered her nails scratching his back savagely. The only thing he knew, the only thing that mattered, was that Arya was very close.

A strangled cry came out of her mouth as Jon felt her tightening all around him. Her toes curled and her nails nearly drawn blood from his back as he kept thrusting into her. All it took for her to finish him was the sound of his name escaping her lips while she was completely lost in the delight and madness only sheer pleasure could provide.

There was silence for a while. Neither of them wanted to ruin the moment with a poor choice of words. Jon held her gently and Arya relaxed. If he could have a wish granted at that very moment, Jon would stop time so that interlude could last forever.

“Should I understand that you forgave me?” He finally summoned the courage to ask.

“I don’t know if will ever be able to do it.” Arya finally answered after a long pause. “I just...I just think I’m tired of feeling lonely while keeping you away. What you did was bad enough, but in the end it’s up to me to decide if I want to keep us both in a miserable life. You still makes me feel safe. I need to feel safe.”

“Do you still love me?” He finally asked, fearing for the answer.

“It wouldn’t hurt so bad if I didn’t.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it and pray no one is thinking about killing me for this one. Reviews are highly appreciated.


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